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Song about the Prince in the heather. Despite the offer of a £30,000 reward, no Highlander betrayed him. (Apologies for the goof near the end: Jacobite chiefs executed after the 1715 Rising, not the '45.)
A wee bird cam to our ha' door,
He warbled sweet and early
An' aye the dew come o' his lilt
Was, "Waes me for Prince Charlie!"
Oh! whan I heard the bonnie, bonnie bird',
The tears cam drappin' rarely;
I took my bonnet aff my head,
For weel I lo'ed Prince Charlie.
Said I, "My bird, my bonnie, bonnie bird,
Is that some tale ye borrow?
Or is it some words ye've learnt by heart,
Or a lilt o' dule an' sorrow?"
"Oh, no, no, no.!" the wee bird sang,
"I've flown since mornin' early,
On sic' a day o' wind and rain!-
Oh! waes me for Prince Charlie."
"On hills that are by right his ain,
He wanders a lonely stranger;
On ilka hand he's press'd by want-
On ilka side by danger.
Yestreen I saw him in a glen,
My heart near burstit fairly,
for sadly changed indeed was he-
Oh! waes me for Prince charlie."
"Dark night cam on, the tempest howl'd
Loud o'er the hills and valleys;
An' whare was't that your Prince lay doun,
Whase hame should been a palace?
He row'd him in a Highland plaid,
That cover'd him but sparely,
An' slept beneath a bush o' broom-
Oh! waes me for Prince Charlie"
[But now the bird saw some red-coats,
An' he shook his wings wi' anger;
"Oh! this is no a land for me,
I'll tarry here nae langer."
He hover'd on the wing a while,
Ere he departed fairly;
But weel I mind the farewell strain
Was, "Waes me for Prince Charlie." ]